


Job Satisfaction (Or Why Pepper Potts Loves Her Life, Mostly)

by Medie



Category: Iron Man (2008)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-27
Updated: 2010-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-08 08:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/74794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yes, the hours are insane, her social life is attracting buzzards, and, so far, fifty three house plants have died from neglect (fifty-four if she counts that cactus) and she's missed three weddings and a bar mitzvah in the last year alone, but she loves her job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Job Satisfaction (Or Why Pepper Potts Loves Her Life, Mostly)

**Author's Note:**

> written for [](http://dotfic.livejournal.com/profile)[**dotfic**](http://dotfic.livejournal.com/) for my Birthday Drabble-A-Thon.

Pepper loves her job. Really. She does. Yes, the hours are insane, her social life is attracting buzzards, and, so far, fifty three house plants have died from neglect (fifty-four if she counts that cactus) and she's missed three weddings and a bar mitzvah in the last year alone, but she loves her job.

Public perceptions aside, she knows just how far her influence can reach. It can be intoxicating, if she had time to let it. She doesn't. She loves her life, dead plants and all, and she loves her job, and she loves the pace of both.

But there are certain things that Pepper Potts has come to expect about both. Certain things which could be called certain complications. If, that is, Pepper considered them complications, which she doesn't. She works for Tony Stark and Tony's always been high maintenance. The arc reactor and Iron Man didn't cause that.

They are, however, probably the cause of the impending demise of plant fifty-five. Pursing her lips, Pepper looks at her boss and mentally signs said plant's death certificate. It's highly unlikely she'll be home in time to water it tonight.

Maybe it's time to try pet rocks instead.

Tony tilts his head, looking at her with that grin on his face, and Pepper sighs. No, it's not fair to the rock. She'd find a way to kill that too. Dammit. He grins wider. She thinks a word a good deal less polite.

Her mother wants her to get a cat. She can already hear the PETA protesters. Pamela Anderson's plastic surgeon is probably prepping her next pair of photo-op implants just in case. Pepper pictures herself and the already-poor-lamented kitty plastered across protest signs outside Stark Industries, being waved by the PETA faithful, and almost giggles when fantasy!Tony – in typical Tony fashion – ruins the moment by dumping red paint on _them_.

"You seem pleased with yourself, Miss Potts," says Tony, amused. "You haven't even heard what I was going to ask you."

She presses her hands together, palming her blackberry, and raises one eyebrow. "If it has _anything_ to do with the costume in the guest room, you can absolutely forget it." She pauses, then tacks on a perfectly impolite, "Sir."

Tony presses his lips together. She can almost see the potential arguments fly through his head. It's quite possible they've spent far too much time together, although he would probably disagree with that assessment.

Truthfully, so does she. "There is no way that I am going anywhere with you -- "

"Oh come on, Pepper," says Tony. "You'd look _amazing_ in that outfit and you know it." He pastes on his best 'oh Pepper, pretty _please_' face. He actually seems to think that works. "Besides, when was the last time we had a little fun?"

She considers it. "That time in Montreal when the Chateau Frontenac tried to throw you out?" Anything involving a sixty thousand dollar bill for damages ranks high on the Stark Shenanigans Scale.

Which, Pepper has on good authority, actually exists. Jarvis swears to it.

He grins, rocking back. "Right, good times."

"They didn't think so."

"Well, I did crash through a plate glass window," muses Tony. "That would probably make anybody sore." He turns around. "You'd look amazing in that costume, you know."

"So you've said," says Pepper. "And I probably would."

"And the last time we went to a charity ball -- " Tony stops. "Oh. Oh damn." He keeps his back to her, but she knows the look on his face. She doesn't see it a lot. Has only seen it, really, since he came back. Since the reactor and Iron Man. "I suppose telling you that I had a _really_ good reason wouldn't help?"

Actually, it would. Pepper's done the math. She knows that was the night all hell broke loose. There are pieces she's never been able to make fit. That gap of time between when he left her side and when he confronted Obadiah, pictures in hand, outside. She knows that somewhere in there he met up with someone. Someone who knew about the double-dealing. She also knows Tony's reaction was typically Tony and she has an intricately detailed recollection of the outcome.

Very intricately detailed. Her nightmares are quite good at reminding her.

She clears her throat, licks her lips, and really tries to think of a good way out of this one. "That's yet to be determined."

Tony looks back at her. "What if I added in the fact you got a healthy raise and a rather impressive bonus?"

"I'd say convenient timing," says Pepper. "Try, 'I'll never scare you like that again, Pepper' and maybe we'll have a deal."

He turns around, pressing a hand to his heart. Or, more accurately, pressing a hand against the arc reactor. "I solemnly swear that I'll never scare you like that again, Pepper."

"Until the next time," finishes Pepper.

Tony scrunches his face, looking thoughtful. "Pretty much." He brightens. "Okay, since we both know that one is pretty much a bust, how about this? The costume you saw in the guest bedroom is _not_ in fact the one I originally wanted you to wear."

"It isn't?" asks Pepper.

"No, though I can't promise that won't figure prominently in some slightly lurid, bordering on pornographic fantasies." Tony leers playfully. "Playboy Bunny Pepper. Hef wishes."

And dear old Hugh wouldn't be the only one. Pepper's oh-so-helpful imagination paints a picture of one of Tony's 'slightly lurid' fantasies and she blushes. Deep.

He grins. "Okay, so maybe I was _hoping_, but that hope? Purely on the 'Dear Buddha, can I have a plastic rocket and a pony' kind of scale." He spins around again, arm waving her forward. "Though, to be honest, if I got you in that suit? We probably wouldn't be -- "

She looks. "Tony."

His innocent look is lacking, well, innocence. "What?"

Pepper doesn't roll her eyes, but she wants to. Oh, _boy_ she wants to. "Just tell me the costume is decent?"

"There is no exposed flesh whatsoever, I assure you," says Tony. He grins. "I was thinking we could do the Sherlock and Watson thing. Except, yeah, you're clearly way too...everything to be Watson. So then I thought there's those books you're always reading - the ones I'm not supposed to know about, except Jarvis can't keep his mouth shut and totally reads over your shoulder - "

"I do _not_, sir," says Jarvis. If an AI can sound indignant, he does. Pepper smiles up at the ceiling in spite of herself. Habit with a few shades of anthropomorphizing thrown in for flavor. "I assure you, Miss Potts, I would never -- "

"I know, Jarvis," says Pepper. "He watches your security feeds."

" -- and totally -- " Tony stops. "I did not tell you about that and I _know_ Jarvis wouldn't."

He looks suspiciously around him. "Would you? Jarvis, I swear to God, if you're going Hal on me -- "

"I would never do such a thing, sir," says Jarvis. "At least not without Miss Potts' approval on the matter."

"Jarvis trusts me implicitly," says Pepper. She might be just a little smug about that.

"Traitor," mutters Tony. He thumps a fist against the wall as they start up the stairs. "And for that matter, I do not watch you on the security feeds."

"Of course you don't," says Pepper. She wonders if the arc reactor can stand up to lightning bolts from on high. At this range, though, she should probably be worried about herself. Getting struck would certainly ruin their evening plans. "Tony?"

He's still muttering about AIs, egos, and goddamn nosy computers when she repeats his name. "_Tony_!"

Tony looks back. "Yeah, Potts?"

She grins. "The costumes?"

"Oh, right, yeah, that." He looks up again. "I'll deal with you later."

"I look forward to it, sir," says Jarvis.

"Yeah, he's definitely got me right where he wants me," says Tony, sighing. "I mess with him, my shower hits subzero tomorrow morning."

"You were the one who doesn't trust butlers."

"Have you _never_ played Clue?" asks Tony. "Really, Pepper. Sometimes I despair."

"The butler can still do it," says Pepper. Her smile is impish. "He just won't leave any fingerprints."

Tony sighs. "Hoist by my own petard, huh?"

She nods. "In effect. Now, about those costumes?"

He blinks. "Oh, right, yeah. Anyway, since the Watson thing is out, I figured we'd do the whole Holmes and Mary Russell thing. Really set the gossip rags talking. How's that strike you?"

Pepper shakes her head. "Like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Right! Perfect choice then." Tony claps his hands together, taking the stairs two at a time. "It'll be GREAT!"

One of the unfortunate downsides of this job, this life, is that she knows she's totally doomed.

Pepper just wishes she could be a little unhappier about it.


End file.
